


ReHoming Your Problem Pet

by fichuntie



Series: Rehoming [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bad Science Explanations for GM, Blow Jobs, Cat Ears, Cat/Human Hybrids, Consent Issues, HEA, Healing, M/M, Ownership, Past Abuse, Pet!Keith, Pets, Reluctant Owner!Shiro, Slow Burn, references to past abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-06-08 10:43:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 18,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15241641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fichuntie/pseuds/fichuntie
Summary: Shiro finds an abandoned pet, a Galra hybrid who needs his help after being abandoned in the trash. Keith begins to recover from his past abusive owner with the possibility of freedom.





	1. Prepare your pet for rehoming

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr is fichuntie](https://fichuntie.tumblr.com/)

Shiro stretched, his back popping in the most disturbingly satisfying way. His legs trembled in the tense pose, so he backed a little out of the pose. 

“Alright, hold the pose a bit longer,” Coran admonished before counting down.

Shiro groaned but obeyed. He leaned back into the stretch. He focused on the pattern on the yoga mat as he willed his muscles to hold out longer. His eyes followed the geometric blue patterns as he clenched his muscles. Maybe there was something to Coran’s verbose claims of “calming Altean pattern design” because Shiro’s lower back held out for the last 20 seconds of the pose. He collapsed gratefully when Coran announced zero. 

“Great work! Disinfect the mat and same time next week,” Coran smiled, already wiping down his own mat. 

Shiro dutifully cleaned and rolled up the mat. He tucked it away in the spot reserved and wiped down the worst of his sweat with a wipe. He waved farewell to Coran, leaving the exercise studio. The large work out space was close to his apartment, a lovely blue signed studio right along the main street. As challenging as physical therapy was, Shiro felt better for doing it. Over the course of a few weeks, Coran’s focus on his back was improving the aches from the weight of the prosthetics. Coran’s cheerful demeanor hid a dedicated focus to Altean healing. With Coran’s advice in mind, Shiro committed himself to walking home to cool off rather than collapsing on the bus. 

Walking briskly, Shiro couldn’t wait to get home and calorie load. The city air felt cool on his sweaty body. He felt a little strange so uncovered in workout gear. The tank top left more of his arms exposed than either Garrion uniform or his usual shirts. His skin was paler than it’d been in years from the layers he’d been hiding under. Shiro and his therapist had been tackling one of his lingering anxieties: how he looked in public. The sun on his shoulders and chest felt good, even after the heat of the workout. He caught a few appreciative glances from pedestrians, lingering glances that used to make him smile back then gave him panic attacks. Most people walked along without glancing at Shiro. They were too involved in their phones or avoiding cyclists on the sidewalk to pay attention to a stranger with a prosthetic limb. 

No one’s looking at the scars. No one’s judging my body. No one remembers the crash.

Shiro raised his gaze from his feet and the sidewalk. He eyed the store fronts as he continued home. Working on his confidence in his body meant more than just building strength. Coran had told him often that he also needed to feel happy with his body, changed as it was. Shiro still felt nervous with his Altean prosthetic entirely exposed out in the city. As intuitive as using the machine had been, Shiro found the an unusual piece of technology to be a draw for attention he didn’t want. 

Across the street, a child pointed at Shiro and tugged on his mother’s arm to get her attention. Shiro couldn’t hear them across the street, but he could see the child’s broad gestures to his own arm and then back at Shiro. The mother looked where the child pointed and in a horrible moment caught Shiro’s eyes. Shiro blinked, stunned, as the mother quickly turned back to her child. She yanked the the pointing arm back down. The moment held horribly still. Faint trembling in his right arm as he clutched his shoulder. Shiro felt a stranger bump against his back. Shaking his head, Shiro closed his eyes. He needed to move, keep walking. 

Shiro knew the child didn’t mean anything, but he still turned down to a residential side street. He counted out his breathing. No one was looking at him. No one was looking at his scars. Not anymore anyway, he sighed. There was no one on the quiet neighborhood sidewalk to stare and point at him. Shiro slowed down as he realized he was almost jogging. 

Shiro looked around the homes, the quiet driveways and manicured lawns. He hadn’t realized that such an expensive area was a few blocks behind the busy main street. The area might be nice for a run after a easier physical therapy session, he noted absently. Any thoughts to distract him from the mother’s wide eyes as she looked at his ruined arm. His eyes wandered over the columned homes, each porch front more ostentatious than the last. 

That couldn’t be. Shiro backed up, dubious of what he’d seen in the corner of his eye.

Atop a pile of garbage was a passed out boy. The boy sprawled over the trash, long limbs akimbo carelessly. His clothes looked grimy: jeans torn and tank top greasy with trash spilling out a back leaning on his side. Even his black hair looked greasy and messily cut with grown out bangs. But his delicate features were relaxed, as if he were comfortably settled. Shiro stopped on the sidewalk, taken in by the boy. 

Not just a boy. Two fluffy purple ears were hidden in the messy inky hair, almost covered. A Galra hybrid!

Shiro glanced around anxiously. Galra hybrids were expensive, not something left in the trash. Shiro had looked into various therapy animals after his accident and the following panic attacks. Although Galra hybrids were the best for his needs, his military insurance wouldn’t even cover a therapy dog. Forget the top of the line of genetically engineered companion pets. The owner should be nearby, protecting not only his companion but his expensive investment. Shiro didn’t want to get caught up with a rich owner seeking his lost pet after having barely avoided a panic attack. 

Still, the passed out boy might need medical help since no one seemed to be around. Shiro anxiously scanned the boy for injury but the boy looked alright, if underweight. Shiro couldn’t tell if the boy’s mottled purple skin was bruised or if that was just his natural patterning. No cuts at least that he could see. The boy’s breathing was deep, completely passed out. Shiro crouched over the boy, carefully pushing aside garbage. Although skinny, he had more muscle than Shiro had initially thought. Close up, the boy was even prettier with full lips in a pout. With a quiet whimper, the boy twisted his face away from the sound of crunching plastic bags. Pinned to the boy’s shirt was a battered piece of cardboard.

Untrainable filth. Free to rehome. Got to go today or trash. 

Shiro gasped. He looked around again, as if the owner would appear to confirm the cruel words. He didn’t know what kind of person pinned such a cruel note to a living person, Galra or not, and abandoned them. Looking at the dark houses, Shiro couldn’t know where the owner was or which manicured home held a cruel guardian. Besides, people other than the owner had dumped trash around the abandoned pet, unconcerned for the boy’s fate. Shiro clenched his jaw. He wasn’t leaving the kid here, outside overnight to be found by garbage collectors. 

He pushed aside the last bit of trash leaning on the boy. Carefully, he took the boy’s pulse. In Shiro’s hand, the wrist seemed small but the heartbeat was strong and the purple hand felt reassuringly warm in his. Garrison first aid training was basic, but Shiro assessed the boy as stable. He lifted the boy into a fireman’s carry. Often Shiro hated the prosthetic but, hefting the weight of the unconscious Galra, Shiro was almost grateful. It’d make carrying the kid home a little easier.


	2. Prepare your pets medical records

Keith woke up, abruptly and sore. Keith kept his eyes closed to keep a moment for himself to regroup. He hadn’t expected to wake up at all, not after the beating his master had given him. 

“Nothing but trash. No wonder your parents abandoned you.”

His master’s words rang in his ears as he tried to shake grogginess away, his ears shaking. After those hissed words, Keith’s memories were hazy. He was sure his master had finally dumped him like garbage outside to be picked up by the next passerby. He could still smell the rotten overripe stench on himself. Or, probably he’d prefer for Keith to die from the latest beating, stinking and bleeding in the trash. But Keith was someplace else. 

Looking around, Keith took in the small room he was in. Neat but lived in, the small room looked nothing like the mansions his master brought Keith to pass him around his owner friends. Nor was it the sterile whiteness at a rehoming center soaked in scents of bleach and fear. He was half tucked into a small bed with a soft blanket draped over him. Bookshelves beside the bed were covered in textbooks and a half open first aid kit. Wary, Keith pushed himself up, flipping the blue blanket down. He expected terrible pain at his movements, but his body responded with only minimal soreness.

“Good, you’re awake!”

Keith turned to the voice, ears and tail twitching. A large man stood in the doorway. He was covered with scarring and had a silver prosthetic arm. He wasn’t dressed in scrubs or a uniform, but wore casual clothes that left the muscled planes of his body exposed. Keith had never seen a re-trainer like this, but the man’s bearing as he approached Keith was militant for sure. Keith hissed, ears pressing back, and shuffled into the corner of room the bed was tucked in. This man might be strong, but Keith still had some of his Galra strength even after the beating. 

“I tried to patch you up,” the man’s voice was calm, but authoritative. “Let me explain.”

Keith’s hiss petered out as the man backed out the room and knelt in the doorway. Keith’s tail swished, hitting the walls he was backed up against. 

“I’m Shiro. I found you,” the man paused, voice breaking before he continued. “I found you in the trash. I don’t know what happened, but you’re safe here.”

Keith scoffed. As if. He wasn’t some idiot kit who’d believe he was safe with a new owner, even if the man had treated his wounds. Probably just protecting his investment. 

“What happened to you?” 

Keith hissed again. 

“At ease.” The man - Shiro - sat back on his heels in the doorway. “You don’t have to tell me now. Look, I patched you up, so I know something happened. We’ve got to figure this out together.”

Keith glared at the strange man. Masters and full humans didn’t figure things out with Galra. They didn’t ask a pet what it wanted. More so they didn’t sit down when a pet hissed at them. He had the bruising to prove what they did. Keith suppressed a shiver at what his anger might cost him when Shiro gave up his facade. Backed into a literal corner, Keith didn’t have much choice but to go along with whatever his new owner figured.

“I was going to take you to a hospital, but they’d check if you were tagged.”

Fear flashed through Keith. His owner had certainly microchipped him, back when he’d still been flush with the pleasure of owning a premium Galra hybrid. He remembered the sting of the vet injecting the metal in his shoulder. Keith hadn’t seen a vet since that first visit, no matter how bad the beatings got. So, his owner had finally dumped him, but might reclaim him if his tags were run as a lost pet -- Keith’s eyes dilated as he panted. He couldn’t go back. Keith’s vision spotted with fear.

“Sorry,” the man leaned beside the bed suddenly, hands hovering over Keith’s shaking body. “I won’t run your tags if you don’t want. Sorry.”

Keith shivered at the phantom sensation of the man’s hands. He gasped deep gulps of air. This Shiro owned him for now. He needed to get ahold of himself. 

“What’s your name?” Shiro asked, his eyes sincere and worried. He knelt at the bed with all his strength tucked small. Still, he didn’t touch Keith. 

Keith’s ears perked forward as he looked down at Shiro. This idiot didn’t know anything. Owners gave pets names, not the other way around. Some of the pets in his master’s household didn’t even have names, called only the serial number they’d been sold by. Keith didn’t answer, glaring balefully at the man. 

Shiro’s large shoulders slumped. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing the white locks back. The other twisted in the comforter bunched at Keith’s feet. His prosthetic hand was amazingly detailed, each finger seeming to sense the weight of the fabric naturally. Shiro gave a deep sigh, tilting his head back. Keith watched his adam’s apple bob. Keith’s tail curled as he considered his options. 

“Keith,” he blurted. “I’m Keith.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my tumblr is fichuntie](https://fichuntie.tumblr.com/)


	3. How to introduce your pet to its new home

Shiro’s hand dropped from his hair as he smiled up at Keith. Keith’s body was tense with his ears forward, the first time they’d perked up from being pressed back. 

“Keith!” he repeated. 

Keith’s ears pressed back down at the shout. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell.” Shiro cast around for some olive branch. The boy was in an unfamiliar place with a stranger. New cadets reacted to their first time away from home worse. And Keith had been abused. The purple skin couldn’t hide the emerging bruises along his flank, barely covered by the oversized workout clothes Shiro had put him in after throwing away the garbage stained clothes he’d found Keith in. Even on the pale underbelly of the boy, Shiro had seen red mottled bruising.

“Are you hungry?”

Keith nodded, one ear twitching. Shiro grinned at the unconscious gesture. 

“Let me make you rice porridge. Stay here, alright?” Shiro sprang up from the bedside, hurrying to the kitchen. He doled out an serving of instant porridge and put the bowl in a microwave. Watching the meal heat up, Shiro paced his kitchen. What was he supposed to do with the Galra? 

This wasn’t something he was going to figure out tonight. Keith was in no state to talk everything out now, the same day he’d been beaten and abandoned to a stranger’s mercy. Task in mind, Shiro brought up his cell phone. 

_Iverson, Due to an unexpected emergency, I will be out of work tomorrow. Apologies for the late notice. My afternoon class can be covered by Matt Holt. If any Garrison matters occur, I can be reached by email. Thank you._

Shiro sent the email off with Matt copied. He also sent a vague text promising to explain further directly to Matt. Matt had already promised to back up lectures in case Shiro had a flare up so work was sorted. With that matter attended to, Shiro had this extremely long night and all of tomorrow to figure out how to handle his unexpected guest. 

The ding of the microwave startled him out of his thoughts. He grabbed the bowl and a spoon. Before leaving the kitchen, he took another deep breath, steeling himself for Keith’s glaring purple eyes. Whatever fear the Galra hybrid had, Shiro had experience working with Garrison cadets still homesick and smarting at military disciple. Patience yields focus, he reminded himself. 

Stepping into the room, Shiro was tracked by those bright violet eyes. The boy’s nose twitched cutely, and that attention refocused on the bowl of food. Keith’s stomach growled loudly. Fierce as the Galra was, the blushing boy charmed Shiro.

“Here,” Shiro offered the bowl to Keith, careful to extend his flesh hand. Keith took the bowl cautiously and began eating quickly. Shiro sat at his desk, observing Keith. Keith’s blush faded quickly as with each bite he seemed to regain more healthy color. Keith’s hand clenched the spoon, clumsy, but he ate quickly and neatly. Shiro leaned back against his desk again, sighing. 

“What are we going to do?” Shiro asked.

Keith paused, spoon halfway to his mouth. 

“We don’t have a lot of options if we can’t go to a vet. I don’t know the first thing about caring for a hybrid. What do you want to do, Keith?”

Keith looked at him for another second then went back to eating. 

Shiro waited. Keith ate slowly but steadily. Shiro could feel his own shoulders hunch with tension. Shiro crossed the room to stand next to the bed.

“I need an answer, Keith.” The same firm tone he used at the Garrison, softened a little. 

Keith set the bowl aside on the nightstand. Shiro felt as if a change had come over the boy; his whole posture changed from one scrunched in the corner with fear to something else. 

“I can be good, sir, if you give me a chance,” Keith leaned towards him. His bright eyes seemed preternaturally bright in the bedroom’s dusky light, and Shiro was arrested by how lovely he was wrapped up in the blue blanket and looking up at Shiro underneath his bangs. “Tags or not, I was abandoned. Anyone can take abandoned trash. You could keep me if you want, sir.” 

Shiro looked down at the upturned face. He brushed aside the silky black hair that had fallen across Keith’s forehead. 

“You’re not trash, and we’re going to figure this out, together.”


	4. Prepare bedding for the pet

Shiro closed the door, retreating to the living room. Shiro tiredly took in the mess of first aid kit materials sprawled over the living room. His stipend wasn’t large enough to have a second bedroom, but this one bedroom apartment was infinitely better than the officer dorms. And more relevantly, pets probably weren’t even allowed in officer quarters. 

Shiro rearranged the sofa for sleeping, organizing pillows to support his back. Tomorrow was certainly going to be painful between the physical therapy and a night on the couch, but it couldn’t be avoided. Keith had seemed on the edge of terror, and Shiro couldn’t kick an injured kid out of the comfort of a soft bed. Settling down against the firm pillows, Shiro pulled out his phone. He scrolled past the increasingly bizarre messages from Matt to set an alarm for tomorrow. After pulling the throw blanket over himself, Shiro went to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mini chapter. the rest is later this week.


	5. Pet Dietary Needs: Guidelines

The horrible ringing needed to stop. Shiro woke up, bleary, and shut his phone alarm off. He stretched, already feeling the soreness in his muscles. With Coran’s voice echoing in his mind, he went through his morning stretches, carefully focusing on his arm and neck which were protesting their cramped treatment on the couch. As he twisted and bent, Shiro looked into the sunlight pouring through his open windows. The breeze cooled the sweat on his back. With his morning stretches done, Shiro sent a quick message to Matt setting up dinner to explain his emergency. 

Quietly, Shiro peered into the bedroom. He quickly pulled a new outfit from the dresser, moving quietly. Keith still slept in his bed, curled into a ball underneath the blankets. Relaxed in sleep, Keith looked beautiful. His glossy hair set off the faint purple of his skin, starkly drawing attention to the brush of his long eyelashes. The drawn curtains cast the room in shadows which complemented the Galra’s cool coloring. Under the hazy light, the bruises were barely noticeable. He looked soft. Keith made a quiet snuffle, nosing Shiro’s pillow and brushing his cheek against it like one might nuzzle closer to a sleep warm body. 

Shiro abruptly pulled back out of the room. 

After a little research on his phone, Shiro set to making breakfast. Galra pets seemed to eat the same as humans with a focus on proteins. Shiro didn’t understand all the emphasis on giving them wet food. Did the articles mean soup? Still, he settled on a decent breakfast spread with both bacon and fried fish as a concession to the protein. Apparently, full Galra were obligate carnivores and their hybrid counterparts needed more protein as well. He set the rice maker and began cooking the rest of breakfast. 

Focused on the sizzling pans, Shiro turned around to set the table and nearly dropped the plates. Keith had silently slunk out of the bedroom. Keith sat on the floor beside the kitchen table, the lines of his body folded into kneeling position that didn’t look comfortable on the tile. However, his position did show off the slim lines of his body. The graceful lines were furthered by the overlarge tank top strap that fell off his slim shoulders. They’d have to buy new clothes today. 

“Good morning, Keith,” Shiro said, keeping the confusion out of his voice as he set the plates down. “Breakfast is almost ready.”

“Good morning, sir.”

Shiro puttered around, setting everything up on the table. Shiro set the pans into the sink with a preliminary scrub. His prosthetic tensed with the repetitive motions, so Shiro rolled the shoulder a few times. Shiro sat down in the chair opposite Keith and began serving himself breakfast. He glanced at where Keith was still kneeling. 

“Aren’t you going to sit with me?” 

“I am sitting,” Keith insisted. His face was calm, supplicantly upturned, but his eyes flashed with irritation. 

“Sit in a chair, then,” Shiro said, gesturing across from himself with a piece of bacon. The small kitchen table looked overfull with the cluttered serving plates and two settings. Shiro blushed a little. Usually he just made his own plate right from the stove before class. Maybe Keith had never sat at such a small table at the mansions he’d lived in so he didn’t realize there was space for him. Until they figured this out, Keith would have to adjust to the unglamorous lifestyle of a teacher living alone. 

Keith rose to sit slowly in the chair, his arms held tightly to his body. His eyes flitted between the different food before settling on his own empty plate. 

“Help yourself,” Shiro said, resuming his own meal. 

Keith flinched. 

“There’s no kibble,” Keith said, flatly. 

Shiro frowned, confused. He put his fork back down and gave Keith his full attention.

“You want me to sit at the table with you and eat this food?” Keith gestured angrily at the food, his elbow almost upsetting the rice. Shiro’s own posture tensed. Keith glared at Shiro, eyes glinting yellow. This resistance certainly didn’t match the soft appearance Keith had while tucked into bed, but maybe his past owner had reason to find the pet untrainable. 

“Yes, I do, Keith.” Shiro kept his voice firm as he met Keith’s glare. 

Keith’s ears flattened against his head, but he picked up a serving spoon and began to portion some rice and bacon for himself. Shiro resumed his meal, watching the hesitance in Keith’s long fingers as he picked up his fork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my tumblr is fichuntie](https://fichuntie.tumblr.com/)


	6. Preparing your pet for a Dietary Change

Keith hadn’t eaten a meal of real human food in years. Probably since he was a child. Rich as his owner was, he’d only ever bought cheap dry kibble. Going from that to real food was overwhelming. Keith could feel the rich scent of the fish at the back of his throat, oily and tempting. He‘d missed real protein for so long his fur was dull and stiff. He piled a mix of rice and meat onto his fork - he was eating from an actual fork, rather than fingers dangling over the table with scraps or an industrial bowl on the floor. Keith’s eyes flashed up to Shiro again, checking this was allowed, not some kind of horrible trick. 

The first bite was amazing. Keith savored the soft grains of rice. No one ever offered pets messy foods like rice, only finger foods that pets could lick seductively for the owner’s pleasure. Keith was rarely favored for such treats with his reputation for biting. Now he could bite as much as he wanted. And the crunch of meat felt delicious, totally different from breaking dry kibble apart while trying to ignore the bland taste. He slowed his bites, feeling the contrast between the rice and meat. As delicious as the food was, if he ate too much he was sure to be sick. No new owner would appreciate vomit on their first day of ownership: a hassle, not a pet. Keith ignored his aching hunger since avoiding the vet was more important than eating a full meal. Instead, he slowly savored the flavors, crunching down on the meaty bacon and fried fish in small bites. 

Shiro resumed eating. Shiro watched Keith eat. Keith watched him back from under his fringe. Shiro’s gray eyes seemed calm, despite Keith’s outburst. Shiro didn’t favor one hand over the other, using the prosthetic to serve himself more rice. Shiro didn’t yell or limit Keith’s food. Shiro didn’t direct Keith to lick his fork or push his tongue out or any of the other tricks owners expected of pets to make a show of eating. Shiro ate with small precise bites until his plate was cleared and seemed to expect the same of Keith. Shiro sat even after finishing his own meal. Keith kept his ears and tail back, tucked tightly against himself as he ate. He saw the way Shiro looked at him, unnerving in how different he was from other owners. Keith snapped a piece of bacon in half viciously. Keith ate the bacon, the last morsel he could keep down, and pushed his plate to the side.

“Thank you,” Shiro said. He gathered up the plates and started towards the sink.

Keith jerked up, grabbing a few platters himself and following. Owners usually had staff and maids for this kind of thing. He remembered how the owners would gorge themselves on food then drift into a smoking room after, pets trailing behind. Owners left the plates and mess behind for maids while the pets were part of the pleasures of the digestif. But this household didn’t have the same intimidating luxury. It barely had two rooms, cosy and neat. There were no staff. Keith would much rather help clean dishes than what most owners expected after a meal. The dining table wasn’t even far to walk to get to the countertop. 

“Pack up the leftovers. There’s containers in the cabinet here,” Shiro showed Keith and stationed himself at the sink. Keith portioned the food out into the containers, sneaking glances at Shiro as the other man made quick work washing the cleared plates. The man had an easy confidence in his physicality even if he paused periodically to shake out his shoulders. Shiro smiled brightly when he caught Keith looking. Keith’s tail fluffed up. Worse: he was probably blushing. Keith snapped his gaze back down and closed the final container. Shiro took them and placed them in the storage unit. 

“Let’s sit down and try and talk about this,” Shiro said.

He led Keith back to the kitchen table. Keith knelt down to the floor. Without the excuse of breakfast, there was no reason for a pet to sit.

Shiro looked at him a little curiously, but began, “You’ll need time to heal from everything and I want to help. I’m impressed you’re moving around with the bruising, but don’t push yourself too hard. You’ve been through a lot. You said last night that you wanted to stay with me, but that doesn’t have to be permanent. “

Keith hid his fear, almost grateful for how ingrained the kneeling pose was. So this was a probationary period. If he didn’t impress his new master, then he’d be back on the streets or a rehoming place. But if he overstrained himself trying to please his temporary master and caused permanent damage, then his resale value would decrease. He’d naviagated riskier paths for his past owner, but now he was flying blind with no sense of who Shiro was. He corrected his obedience kneel. Keith couldn’t make up for being damaged or angry, but he could do his best to be appealing. 

“I’m going to talk to my friend, Matt, this evening. In the meantime, you’ll need clothes and things.” 

Keith nodded in acknowledgement, but kept his gaze down.

“Keith, that means both of us going out of the house. I need your word you won’t run away. I can’t help if you don’t trust me.”

Keith looked up at Shiro’s gray eyes. This first day was probably his best chance if he wanted to run, even with the bruising settling heavy over his body. Bruises that Shiro had spread his broad fingers over to clean and bandage. His body that would heal faster with the energy from the meal Shiro had made and shared with him. Shiro was unlike any owner he’d known or even heard rumor of. Besides, there was still the tags embedded in his shoulder. Keith didn’t have anywhere else to go. He felt like he was careening over a cliff.

“Yes, sir.”

Shiro led him out the house, not even looking back to check if Keith was behind him. 

The car transport was a sleek black vehicle with vibrant blue light panels running along the side. It was smaller than the business class transport his past owner had. Shiro opened the door with a press of his thumb on the scanner. He gestured for Keith to go in first. The plush interior seated two people comfortably and three tightly. Keith clambered in, tucking himself into the footwell. Shiro stepped into the car, almost stomping on Keith. Keith tried to curl smaller, but he was already a tightly held ball. The doors automatically shut.

“What the fuck are you doing down there?” Shiro pulled his knees up to his chest, grabbing the seat back as if he could climb away from Keith. Keith could feel dirt getting into his fur, but he stayed pressed down. Dirt was still better than a foot to the face. 

“This is where my owner kept me when he drove,” Keith said, almost knocking his head on the glove compartment to look at Shiro. 

“Get up here! What were your owners thinking? There’s no safety belt down there!” Shiro huffed. Keith had no idea what owners thought so he kept quiet. Keith crawled back up to sit next to Shiro. The black leather interior was much nicer than the plastic mat. The musky leather smelled better too, clearly well polished and cared for. Shiro was an owner who kept his possessions clean, it seemed.

“I can’t wait to talk to Matt,” Shiro ran his hands through his hair, tugging on the white hair. “I’ve got no idea what people do with pets.”

“People do whatever they want with pets,” Keith said, barely keeping the growl from his voice. Sitting beside him, Keith felt the heat from where their thighs touched. He’d never sat beside a full human. The unfamiliarity was distracting him, making him blurt stupid rude things. Any other owner would’ve slapped him for the unprompted comment. 

“Well, I want you to belt up,” Shiro said. 

Keith bit his own lip even though his sharp canines cut. He gave Shiro a blank stare. Better than the well of angry comments he was holding back. How could he know how to belt if he’d spent every car ride curled at the feet of his owners? 

Shiro leaned over him and pushed him flush against the seat with his flesh hand. The robotic one quickly pulled the safety belt out of a discrete panel. Shiro pulled the belt across Keith where it clicked into place at Keith’s hip. As Shiro pulled the black strap once, his knuckles brushed against Keith’s stomach. Satisfied when the belt stayed taut, Shiro gave it - and Keith - an absent pat before retreating back to his own seat. He repeated the procedure for his own seat. Keith wasn’t entirely comfortable with his tail pressed between his back and the leather seats, but this was infinitely better than the footwell. Safer too, probably. 

“Transport to Old Town Shopping,” Shiro ordered as he keyed in the activation code. With a rising tone, the car set off. The car was moving quickly, but the hover made the ride smooth. Keith wished the car had tinted windows so he could forget how quickly they were going, but through the transparent glass he could see the houses be replaced by shops as they traveled away from Shiro’s apartment. Shiro was fiddling with the car’s data pad so Keith gave the view his full attention. He couldn’t know if he’d ever get to be outside again after this trip. Or if he’d need to remember the route when running away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my tumblr is fichuntie](https://fichuntie.tumblr.com/)
> 
>  
> 
> irl is really busy so please be patient. i'm faster to respond to things on tumblr.


	7. Preparing your pet for travel: crate, leash, and weight requirements

Shiro headed to the store he had looked up on his tablet. Old Town had nice shops with a small set of loyal shoppers who enjoyed the casual and anachronistic style. Shiro had the impression Keith had very limited experience of the world outside. This clothing boutique was small and pricier than what Shiro would choose for himself so it was probably closer to what a Galra owner would afford. Keith trailed behind him a few steps but close enough Shiro could grab him easily. Shiro wondered if Keith might bolt, but so far he’d been obedient if warily resigned to Shiro’s ownership. Hopefully the good behavior would last through this shopping trip. Shiro didn’t know what he’d do if there was a public outburst, if he could even keep his own anxieties in check. 

The security person gave the two of them a long stare before stepping towards the door to stop them. Shiro eyed the security person back. He was a few years past middle age, nondescript but tall. His weight and his uniform were less maintained than the Garrison would allow, but security was just for show in such a nice neighborhood. Still, the tension between them was attracting glances from customers inside. Shiro squared his shoulders, trying to hide his embarrassment at the attention. It wasn’t about his arm, he knew mentally. But the security guard’s grimace as he looked Shiro and Keith over felt like scorn. 

“Pets aren’t allowed in here,” the man said firmly. 

“He’s a therapy hybrid,” Shiro said. He knew the blush over his cheeks made the scar on his nose look pale. A few patrons inside the store were gawking. Keith kept his gaze down, but couldn’t stop his tail from swaying. Shiro straightened his posture, but made sure not to brush too close to security as he pulled Keith towards the door. With his flesh hand he could feel the steady pulse in Keith’s thin wrist. Shiro controlled his breathing. They just needed to get inside the store. 

“You could be making that up,” the security guard grumbled. 

“Since 1990, public establishments can’t require paperwork for a service animal,” Shiro answered, “Besides, do you think I made this up?” He pushed his right arm forward, pulling back his sleeve to show the glinting metal. The security man stumbled back, his face twisting with disgust. Shiro took the chance and shouldered past him all the way into the store, still holding Keith’s wrist.

Shiro pulled them towards the back of the store. Shiro let out a shaky breath, then counted out a few beats. Keith was quiet next to him, stock still. Shiro’s heart rate slowed in a few minutes and he let go of Keith’s hand. 

“Sorry, I just hate waving this around,” Shiro rubbed absently at his prosthetic. He gave Keith a shaky smile. “Go pick out some clothes for yourself.”

Keith looked around, violet eyes assessing the neatly arranged racks and displays. Keith gave Shiro a suspicious look which faded when Shiro gave him a shooing motion. Keith stomped off and began pulling items down. 

Shiro didn’t pay much attention to the clothes Keith selected, more focused on the intent focus Keith gave. Keith looked older, more assured, when completely focused. His thick brows pulled together as he ran his fingers over different fabrics. At the back of the store, he kept an eye on Keith without interfering with his selection. Aside from his purple coloring, Keith didn’t look out of place among the other people browsing. He seemed to have some set of requirements since many items were put back after a touch or look. Keith spent a good hour browsing. 

“Do you approve?” Keith handed his selections over to Shiro. Shiro pulled the first one up: a gauzy top with no sleeves. It barely looked like it would fit across Keith’s shoulders. The next item was a pair of silk shorts that probably belonged in lingerie, even the texture seemed boudoir. Underneath the shorts was a collection of lace and straps too confusing for Shiro to even figure out as clothing. There were more hangers clutched in Shiro’s sweaty hands. Shiro brushed his white hair back. All of Keith’s selections were like this. 

“Keith, are these the kinds of clothes you wore before?”

Keith nodded.

“Do you like these kinds of clothes?”

Keith ducked his head. His crossed arms and tail curled around his legs made his discomfort clear. 

“Pick out some clothes you’d want to wear,” Shiro pushed the assortment into the changing room pile. The staff member looked at the selection and blushed. Shiro moved them back towards the middle of the store. “Things that are appropriate for outside.” He nudged Keith to go off and try again. 

Keith wandered the store more slowly this time. 

Keith pushed the new assortment of clothes towards Shiro. Shiro started organizing them. Keith seemed to like blacks and reds, simple clothes. Shiro thought some of the clothes were a little dated, but at least Keith was showing his preferences. There was a good mix of tops and pants, enough for a few weeks worth of items. Shiro tallied the cost up in his head as reasonable. Shiro paused and then dug back through the whole pile of clothes. 

“Ah, you’ll also need…” Shiro blushed, not quite sure how to put this without embarrassing either of them in public. 

Keith’s ear twitched but he waited, arms crossed.

“Underclothes!” Shiro blurted. A man an aisle over looked over, smirking. Shiro dragged Keith behind a fuller rack of clothes. His face felt too hot. Keith stared at him blankly.

“You need boxers! Or briefs! Whichever you prefer! Just!” Shiro’s frantic whispering wasis rising in volume. 

“Oh,” Keith’s ears are perked forward. “I haven’t had those in years. That’s not for pets.”

Shiro mind blanked out. Keith hadn’t had underclothes for years? What kind of owner didn’t provide something so basic? Shiro frowned at the incongruity. Keith was used to clothes, had even been able to pick out flattering risque ones. The image of Keith dressed in one of the skimpy outfits with nothing on underneath, silky fabric the only layer between him and his owner, the pale lilac markings on his stomach exposed above the dark fabric, flashed into Shiro’s mind. His ears were burning. 

“-- too much trouble, I guess. So long as you don’t mind,” Keith shrugged. He strode off towards the other end of the store. Shiro pressed his hands over his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my tumblr is fichuntie](https://fichuntie.tumblr.com/)


	8. Preparing your pet for travel: crate, leash, and weight requirements

Shiro carried half the bags to the car. The number of bags is impressive, but half of the bulk was tissue paper that the staff at the register insisted on. Shiro couldn’t forget the way she had folded the underwear with a wink at Shiro. Keith waited for Shiro to finish loading his half of the bags into the car, looking around with bright attentiveness. Shiro decides it’s worth pressing their luck as Keith in turn packed the items into the trunk of the transport car. 

“Let’s get lunch.” 

“Yes, sir,” Keith said, a little distracted as he’s pushing the last bag in. 

Shiro looked around the parking lot which was surrounded by cafes and stores. He wasn’t sure which restaurant would accept a walk in and seat a pet. He didn’t want another confrontation just to get Keith in the door. He spots a couple with a Galra sitting beside them in one of the cafes outdoor areas. Proof perfect. Shiro walked up to the cafe. He can see through the large glass windows that there are a few other patrons inside. The cafe has a covered outdoor area with rustic chairs and tables that fit the old fashioned look. Keith walked a little closer, but still a step behind. The host smiled brightly at both of them. The host led them to a table, outdoor on Shiro’s request, with a quick estimate for the waiter. 

“Sit across from me in a chair at the table,” Shiro said, careful to be explicit in his instructions. Keith gracefully folded down into the chair across from Shiro. His tail curled around the leg of the chair like a vine. 

The waiter arrived, handing a menu to Shiro. He paused when he looked at Keith and then drew out a smaller laminated sheet which he also passed to Shiro. Shiro skimmed the smaller menu. The options for Galra were limited, cheaper than the other menu, and unappealing. Shiro thought they seemed more like what he’d feed a dog than Keith. Still, the options must be in some way tailored towards Galra pets since there were several kibble and high protein options. Shiro offered the small menu to Keith. Keith looked it over, attentive at first, but his eyes glazed over before he got to the bottom of the page. 

“I can’t order off this,” Keith said, dropping the sheet like it scalded him.

“What? You don’t like the options?” Shiro tilted the full service menu towards him. 

“Pets aren’t allowed to read,” Keith dropped his gaze to his lap. 

“Can you read?” Shiro squinted at Keith. Keith’s eyes had scanned across the lines of text at first: Shiro had seen his attention. 

“Pets aren’t allowed,” Keith repeated and crossed his arms. His tail was bushing up as it coiled tighter around the chair.

“That’s not true,” Shiro said, “Most pets are supposed to get some basic literacy education. When I was looking at therapy pets, they cost more since they have to learn medical lingo. I don’t know everything your old owner told you, but pets are allowed to read.”

Keith’s slitted eyes popped up to meet Shiro’s. Keith’s pupils expanded in the brief moment their eyes met and then he looked back down at the small menu. His tail and ears were slowly relaxing, but his shoulders remain hunched up. Keith’s brows pulled together as he considered Shiro’s explanation, eyes randomly scanning the menu. Shiro looked at his own menu, the array of paninis and entres suddenly overwhelming but the distraught look on Keith’s face even worse. 

The waiter returned, smiling brightly and completely unaware of the tension between them. 

“What will you be having?” The waiter looked attentively to Shiro for the order. Shiro glanced at Keith who was still hunched over the page. 

“I’ll have the pesto chicken and Keith will --”

“The chilli stew?” Keith interrupted. His eyes met Shiro’s, challengingly. 

The waiter’s stylus veered over his pad at Keith’s demand. The waiter looked wide eyed to Shiro for confirmation. At Shiro’s smiling nod, the waiter scurried off. Keith seemed just as startled by the placid approval for his order. Tension hung heavy over the table. The two sat silently. Shiro began to realize how prevalent the dismissal of Galra was. Keith’s past owner hadn’t just been harsh, but cruel. But the world seemed more surprised when Shiro granted Keith his limited rights than by his owner’s cruelty. The security guard blocking their entry; the waitstaff expecting Shiro to choose for his pet: Shiro was starting to see how people treated hybrid pets. Shiro took a deep drink of water to wash away the unpleasant realization. 

The waiter returned with their food. Keith’s food was a smaller portion, but looked edible enough. Shiro’s own pasta looked delicious as it was set in front of him. 

“There are laws about how you should be treated. Even if you’re not a citizen, you do have some rights as a Galra pet.” Shiro tried to explain. “I don’t know all of them since I obviously didn’t expect you, but I had looked into a therapy pet right after ... Anyway, we can start with what I know and what Matt knows since his sister is a total nerd about Galra. Try to fill you in.” 

“Yes, sir,” Keith said in between bites of the stew. 

Shiro sighed. “We need to figure this out together. That means I need you to speak up.”

“Most owners don’t appreciate pets speaking out of turn,” Keith said.

“I’m not most owners. Besides, I’m asking you to speak your mind,” Shiro said. “What do you want?”

“Owners don’t like me or my attitude. He always wanted me to be quiet. The trainers said I had a temper, that I wouldn’t go anywhere.” Keith’s dry voice broke a little, but he rallied. “I want to find out what happened to my family. I want to know if I was even brought to market legally as a kit. I want to know if what he did, if the punishments were legal. I want to know if pets can get out and see the world, the stars. If I can travel by myself or drive a hover. I want to make sure I never have to follow orders I don’t like again.”

“Thank you,” Shiro said. 

The waiter returned for their plates. He set the check data pad down next to Shiro with a final cheerful smile. Shiro tapped his card and signed off the receipt. It had been an expensive afternoon, but worthwhile. Even the tense lunch seemed to have loosened the restraints around Keith. As they left the cafe, Keith fell into place behind Shiro with easy strides. They headed back to the car. Keith again went in first but sat in the seat on his own. Shiro slid in next to him. Keith looked more relaxed, no longer hunched over. Keith’s tail lay between them in the center as Keith yanked the seatbelt out. Shiro did his own seat belt and typed the route home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my tumblr is fichuntie](https://fichuntie.tumblr.com/)
> 
> i'm going to crunchyroll expo! it's a first year for the con, so i'm a bit cautious, but i think it'll be good since i'm going with friends.


	9. Purebred Pets: Browse CFA Breeds

Keith startled at the knock on the bedroom door. 

“Matt just rang to be let up,” Shiro said, just his head peeked past the door. 

Keith had been napping, nestled under the blankets in Shiro’s bed. The pain medication Shiro had given him before his nap still lessened his aches so he couldn’t have been sleeping for more than a few hours. The warm weight of the chilli stew sat in Keith’s belly. Keith had barely recovered from the stress and excitement of going out shopping. Now he needed to be ready for Shiro’s guest. Keith hauled himself out of bed. He hated when owners had guests. Trying to manage the needs of one human was bad enough. Worse, Matt seemed to be a trusted friend of Shiro’s. At least he felt confident in the new clothes with jeans and shirt more covering and comfortable than what he’d worn in a long time. 

Keith emerged from the room right as insistent knocking pounded at Shiro’s door. 

“I couldn’t stop her,” Matt said, barely apologetic as Shiro opened the door. Matt was lanky but had the same military bearing as Shiro if a bit more relaxed. His bright brown eyes crinkled behind his glasses as he smiled at Shiro. Next to him was a young girl, dressed similar to Matt in hoodie and shorts, even the same kind of round glasses. Pidge was younger than Matt but the family appearance was clear. She was also vibrating with excitement. 

“Hey Pidge,” Shiro said, smiling at her. As Matt came forward, Keith caught sight of the last guest. 

She also had a high content Galra with her. The purple creature was like a large dog with bright purple fur. Dark indigo stripes ran from its nose to its tail. The large purple ears were triangular like Keith’s but sat at the top of its head, looking over-large for the slender face of the animal. The Galra was attentive to its owner, brushing up against Pidge’s thigh and hand for pets. Its cat-like slit eyes glowed a bright yellow. Keith barely kept the hiss behind his teeth. Pets were meant to get along with other pets, he reminded himself. 

“Did she have to bring Rover?” Shiro groaned even as he stepped aside to let them both into his apartment. Rover must be the Galra, Keith figured. The Galra sniffed absently at Shiro, but then caught sight of Keith. The Galra yipped excitedly, eyes dilating better to track his movement. Keith caught sight of its sharp canines. It looked back at Pidge as though to confirm it could attack. 

“Yeah, I see him too,” Pidge said as she patted the animal's head. But she kept a grip on its mane, and the animal didn’t lunge towards him. Her hands disappeared into the thick fur, but the animal stayed restrained. Pidge herself looked like she wanted to leap over to Keith and sniff him. Overexcited kits. Keith bristled as the animal stared at him. Rover’s wagging tail didn’t fool him. With a disappointed whine, Rover tilted its head to the side and broke eye contact. 

“Let’s all sit down,” Shiro said, stepping between Keith and the suspicious animal. 

Matt laughed, already flopping onto the couch. Shiro shoved Matt’s feet off the couch and sat down in the cleared space. Keith sat next to Shiro, as far away from Rover as he could while still being on the couch. Resigned, Pidge dragged one of the kitchen chairs into the living room. With a brisk hand motion from Pidge, the Galra pet obediently sat down at Pidge’s feet. Pidge kept her pet at heel with only a glance. No wonder Matt had brought her along to discipline Shiro’s new broken pet.

“It’s great to meet you,” Matt leaned over Shiro to offer Keith his hand. 

“I’m Keith,” Keith eyed the hand suspiciously. 

“So this cutie is why you missed class.” Matt’s extended hand pulled back so he could jostle Shiro. “How’d you two meet?”

“I found Keith,” Shiro cut in, “in the trash. He’s not comfortable going to a vet so I patched him up, but I don’t know much about Galra biology. Or their legal rights. I thought you could help.” 

Matt’s grin faded. He and Pidge shared a look, eyes glinting behind their glasses. They were like mirror images of each other as their intense focus turned to Keith. He shrunk behind Shiro. 

“Guess it’s good Pidge is here. You know I’m a mathematician not a biologist.” Matt teased Shiro. 

Pidge scurried towards the couch, already cracking her knuckles on a challenging problem. He’d seen the same analytical look before. Keith didn’t like being looked at as a puzzle meant to be broken down. After all the money spent on clothes, Shiro wouldn’t let her permanently damage him. Just because it didn’t leave damage, it could still hurt. A master’s definition of damage could be different from a pet’s. Keith remembered Sendak’s pets adorned with piercings and their muffled whimpers when Sendak would idly pull on a golden ring. The vet who’d driven the metal through their bodies had probably looked like Pidge did now: curious as she considered how to dissect flesh to get the answer the master asked for.

“I think the first step is figuring out Keith’s breed. Different breeds are categorized differently; legally, too,” Pidge explained, “I’d need to fully examine his markings though to have a good sense.”

“Is it alright if Pidge examines you? She won’t run your tags. She just has to look, and she’ll be quick.” Shiro said the last part firmly while looking at Pidge. His attention returned to Keith, his hand settling on Keith’s shoulder reassuringly. 

“Yeah,” Keith nodded. The relief was dizzying. Shiro did like to take care of his belongings, expecting his friends to do the same. The same care seemed to extend to his new pet. 

Pidge’s face lit up. Even Rover seemed to pick up on the curiosity with his wagging tail and perked ears. Shiro smiled at Keith, fingers trailing down his arm to rest back on the couch. 

“Let me know if I press too hard or anything,” Pidge said, already sprinting over to Keith. 

Pidge examined his ears and tail with brusque movements. Her small hands felt light, much gentler than the larger plastic wrapped ones of vets. Warm too. Like Shiro had been in the car. Keith hadn’t realized how warm humans were without sterile instruments between them. He flinched a little when Pidge lifted up his shirt to look at the markings on his stomach. Other pets had always eyed the faded indigo markings with distrust and owners with frightening fascination. She pushed her glasses up and turned to Shiro.

“Where’d you find him again?” she asks.

“In the trash. One of the new houses near Brigham, towards the suburbs.”

“Well, he’s not any registered hybrid type. I’d expect purebred source genes with the money in that zipcode. None of his markings are standard,” Pidge pushed her glasses up even though her eyes seemed focused on her calculations. “But a custom modified Galra would be so expensive! The bio-patents alone would be a fortune.”

“Lucky find,” Matt threw an arm around Shiro, laughing. Shiro remained worried as he caught Matt’s weight. He brushed against Keith to avoid Matt’s flailing limbs. “Only you would stumble across something like this. It’s like Kerberos all over again!”

Shiro grimaced a little, but managed a smile at Matt.

“Most Galra pets only have a low amount of Galra genetics, enough for aesthetics and legal status. The main breeders are all working off of the edited genetic material the bio-companies wrote. The bio-techs all want to secure their intellectual property and keep their breeds recognizable as a brand so each of them came up with unique dominant markings. You can look up the trademarks linked to the patents, as you can see--” Pidge began to pull out her tablet, but Shiro placed his hands over hers. 

“Maybe later. What does this mean for Keith?”

“Markings are a way the breeds are immediately recognizable without taking the pet to a vet to verify,” Pidge paused and then continued, more considering. “Sure, after several decades, you might get unique genetic material with a new phenotype by breeding, but there’s no way for a pet’s genetic material to deviate so much within a generation. Markings are programmed to be stable across generations too. The only way a Galra pet could end up with such unique markings is if extremely divergent new genetic materials were added.

“Keith’s either got uniquely programed Galra genetics or non-Galra ancestry,” she looked at Keith, slow and steady. Her eyes looked more predatory than Rover’s gold ones. “Considering how faded his shading is, I’m betting on the latter.”

Keith’s ears pressed back. Most of the terms didn’t make sense to him, but he understood that he was a freak. He’d never gotten along with other pets or owners. His owner had always conveyed how disgusting it would be to dilute Galra genetics, barely tolerating female pets in his home. Keith’s incensed loneliness made sense now: he wasn’t like either pets or Galra, some kind of freakish mix. Even Rover’s reactions to him confirmed it. 

“I’d know more if I could run a full genetic diagnostic. Can I take a sample?” Pidge asked. Keith was amazed that the question was directed at him.

“If Shiro trusts you, yes.” Keith kept his voice firm, but he could feel the frantic twitching of his tail against Shiro’s thigh. 

“We don’t have to do it tonight. Drawing blood is hardly an appetizer for dinner,” Shiro said. Shiro’s grey eyes were calming. Keith’s tail slowed its motions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my tumblr is fichuntie](https://fichuntie.tumblr.com/) feel free to stop by! i post chapter previews sometimes


	10. Introducing your pet to company

“Thanks for coming over,” Shiro said.

“It’s the least you could do after I covered classes for you today,” Matt said.

Pidge’s fingers flew over the tablet screen. She didn’t seem to notice Rover nosing at her elbow and then curling around her. Dinner had been good with Pidge and Matt keeping conversation light. Pidge was already half asleep, leaning against her curled up Galra on the floor. Rover gave a huff as she burrowed an absent hand in his warm fur. Even tired, Pidge’s focus was extreme. Shiro settled on the couch with most of the dishes managed. 

“Yeah, I can’t take another day off. The students would fail if they stick with you too long,” Shiro laughed. “I don’t know what to do with Keith though.” His happiness tapered to worry. 

Keith was tucked away in Shiro’s room again. Even after his previous nap, the excitement of the day had been a lot.

“Just take him with you,” Matt said.

“I don’t know. He’s been alright so far, but taking him to the Garrison is…” Shiro trailed off.

“He’ll be with you though. And he doesn’t seem like he’d run away. Not from you anyway.”

Shiro blushed.

“Besides, what could go wrong with the Garrison’s star pilot and a cute Galra pet?” Matt continued.

Shiro’s blush deepend. He couldn’t deny that Keith was his type, as Matt knew. The hints of his fiery temper intrigued Shiro more than he wanted to admit. Keith smirking down at Rover, tail held high at his superior status at the kitchen table while Rover was relegated to the floor. Even Keith startled into a laugh at Pidge and Matt’s sibling banter. Seeing Keith happy uncovered an interest Shiro had buried. Matt’s knowing grin grew.

“If I’m going to see you two tomorrow, Pidge and I better head home,” Matt said, pushing up from the couch.

Matt shook Pidge’s shoulder gently. Pidge blinked up at him, drowsily.

“C’mon, it’s time to go.”

She and Matt gathered up their things. Rover stretched, white claws clacking on the floor as his forelegs reached forward. With his back and tail a long curve, his full length was more apparent. Four feet long, including his tail which was a terrible threat to the knicknacks on the coffee table.

“Coran would be impressed by his form. He’s always telling me I don’t use my arms enough in downward dog,” Shiro said.

Matt headed out first. Pidge and Rover hesitated at the doorway. There was a sharp whistle from Matt already down the stairs. Rover’s ears perked with his yellow eyes focused precisely towards the sound. He trotted down the stairs. Pidge looked after him ruefully.

“Shiro, whatever you do, just... don’t get attached, alright?”

Shiro startled backwards, but Pidge was already turning away. She gave him a last glance, eyes inscrutable behind her glasses, and headed down the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I just started a new job so i'm busy and pretty tired after.


	11. Pet Training: Adult and Kit Training Classes

Shiro pulled the packet out triumphantly from the back of his closet. 

“My old uniforms!” He unpacked the folded material. Under his flesh hand, he could feel the starchy fabric still pressed to inspection standard. The prosthetic only conveyed the weight of the folded clothes, the difference in texture. There were so many memories in the old uniform.

“Hopefully these will fit you well enough,” Shiro said as he handed the orange uniform to Keith.

Keith promptly began to strip out of his clothes.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” Shiro yelped. He quickly retreated back to the living room.

Keith came out a few minutes later. The uniform recontextualized his height and litheness. The structure of the uniform pulled Keith tauntly out of his slouch. The metal accents at his shoulders broadened him and threw reflections of sunlight on his face. The high collar was a bit loose on Keith and, unlike the waist, couldn’t be tightened much. Keith had a gymnast’s physique when he wasn’t curled with anxiety. Most importantly, the pants and arm length were alright. Shiro didn’t want attention from an overeager citation officer for not following uniform regulations. With similar foresight, Keith seemed to have shoved his tail into a pants leg. Keith walked over to the the breakfast table, his stride unevenly adjusting to the hidden tail. Without Shiro’s prompting, he sat down at the table. Not even the floor beside the table, but an actual chair. Shiro beamed. Shiro passed Keith the plate of bacon and began to explain.

“At the garrison, you’ll need to pass as a student. Keep your tail and ears out of sight. The uniform should do most of the heavy lifting for getting you in and around campus, but you need to fit in. You’ll need to be polite, but not as obedient as a pet. Follow my lead. If we get caught, I won’t be able to stop them from running your tags and I’ll probably get more than just a citation for unauthorized personnel. This is a big risk,” Shiro peered at Keith. “Are you onboard with this?

“You asked me to trust you.” Keith said decisively.

Shiro thought he ate more than yesterday which was a good sign. Keith looked different in the uniform sitting across from him. He could pass as a student. The slight tint to his skin would fit in among the various humanoid species and most of his markings were covered by the uniform. Although: The ears were a problem.

Shiro stumbled away from the kitchen table. From the hallway closet, Shiro produced a beret with a flourish.

“The final touch!”

Shiro plopped the black hat down on Keith’s head. Most students didn’t bother with the hat with the excuse of the Arizona heat. His fingers brushed against the delicate flesh of the Galra’s ear. Although Keith’s ears looked large with soft fur, Keith’s ear was thin and delicate. Like kozo paper against the brush his fingers. A fine tremor ran down Keith. Shiro tucked the hat down more carefully. With his ears hidden and tail tucked down a pants leg, Keith looked human.

“Look!” Shiro grabbed Keith by the shoulders and guided him to the bedroom mirror. Keith followed his direction easily even if his tail twitched noticeably inside the pants leg.

Keith looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes dilated, more Galra than human, as he looked at himself. He seemed completely arrested by his reflection in the mirror, fingers lifting to the beret.

“I look --” Keith’s husky voice broke.

“You look like a cadet!” Shiro said proudly, “Top of your class!”

Keith caught Shiro’s gaze in the mirror. A smile spread over his face. Shiro felt his own cheeks warm as he smiled back. The two of them could get through a day of classes together.

Keith assured Shiro that he’d be able to keep up the act for the necessary hours Shiro needed to be on campus. With that, Shiro bustled the two of them into the hover car. Keith sat next to Shiro without prompting. Shiro could pay more attention to Keith on the drive since the commute was a familiar pre-programmed route. Keith looked determined. Excitement dawned on Keith’s face as the silver glimmer of buildings emerged from the heat blurred skyline.


	12. Galra Instructions

They drove out as desert overtook the suburban sprawl. The open space of the sand and mountains was appealing, red and gold. The drive must have been several hours, longer than going to the shops yesterday. Keith mulled over the thought of running across the hot sand far away from owners and humans. Finally, buildings appeared on the horizon blurred by heat and the transport’s darkened windshield. Keith and Shiro perked up as they approached their destination. 

The Garrison was a collection of buildings surrounded by two layers of electromag fencing. Keith had seen this kind of set up before around more important owners’ mansions, but he hadn’t realized it was military grade. They approached a security station at the first layer where Shiro keyed a passcode and submitted to a quick scan. They drove through and proceeded a few miles to the second layer. With the flat desert terrain and the periodic gray security towers, those miles would be brutal for an unauthorized vehicle. The second security station had a live guard who completed another scan of Shiro while he chatted with him. The light thrown off by the electromag fencing gave him an orange pallor, but made the inside of the car relatively shadowy. Hopefully, it would hide Keith. 

“Who’s the cadet?” he asked.

“Trainee. He’s touring the school,” Shiro answered, pulling Keith closer to the transport window so the guard could better see him. Shiro could probably feel the silky fur as Keith’s hackles rose in alarm as he tried to pull away. Why would Shiro want the guard to get a good look at him? After a moment, Keith fell into the pull of Shiro’s hooked arm easily, following his lead. 

“With you as a tour guide, he’s sure to love it.” The guard peered into the vehicle, most of his focus still on Shiro. He waved them through, not even bothering to scan Keith. Shiro moved their transport along, letting Keith draw back again. They went through the opening created in the electromag fence and the plane of orange hexagons closed behind them. Keith looked at Shiro from the corner of his eye. Shiro was someone important here, deferred to and he barely even noticed. 

The buildings were flat and sandy gray, most less than two stories high. Keith could see the glimmer of machinery embedded in the concrete structures. Further out, dark hulls of aircraft dotted the desert with thin lines of road connecting them to small buildings and the main campus. The central building was several stories tall with one floor entirely glass. Probably for students to observe flights or security to screen approaching vehicles, Keith figured. The campus buildings were state of the art, splendors of technology and discipline. Each of them had a bustle of people rushing around. Shiro parked them in an impressive building of concrete and glass, a garage. 

“Alright. Call me Instructor or Shirogane, here. I’m teaching one class today. You’ll sit in on the class. Wait, have you ever been to class before?” Shiro asked.

“No, sir,” Keith answered slowly. Shiro’s definitions rarely lined up with Keith’s experience. Disciplinary classes probably didn’t count. 

Shiro drooped over the steering pad. “At least you’re going to be the most polite cadet in the class. ‘Sir.’ I’m lucky when they call me instructor.” Shiro rallied and began again.

“You and all the other students will sit down while I stand at the front of a room and talk. There will be times where I’ll ask questions and then choose someone to answer them. Otherwise, sit quietly. The other students shouldn’t bother you. Honestly, you don’t even have to pay attention to them or me. Just don’t draw attention to yourself. As long as you stick with me, you should be fine.”

Shiro opened the door and gestured for Keith to follow. Keith clenched his fist. He got out the car. Keith could do this. 

Keith’s boggled at the number of people gathered together. Students clustered in the hallways, chatting as they walked to classes. Unlike the standard sleek look of pets, students looked different. Their heights and weights varied even under the orange uniform. A few even looked of intergalactic, sporting unusual colors and limbs. Some had the familiar attractiveness of youth found in pets, but others looked haggard and stressed. Most looked strong, a kind of fierce strength from hard work. Keith felt jealousy curl in his stomach. A few adults in gray uniforms were sprinkled through the hallways. Each of them paused to acknowledge Shiro as he led Keith through the Garrison. 

Shiro led them through the halls, turning around corners confidently with only an occasional glance behind him. Unlike his home, Shiro expected obedience here. The buildings were a maze that Shiro navigated easily. They passed many doors and turn offs, even a great bridge that traversed what Shiro briefly explained was a flight training deck. Keith stumbled a little as they walked over the transparent glass floor of the bridge, but stayed close to Shiro. The twisting hallways with numbers and keypads seemed indistinguishable. Shiro seemed to have an internal map of the campus as he led them to the classroom.

“We’re here,” Shiro said, stopping at a brown and gray hallway that looked like every other one and opening a door. 

Inside was a large semi-circular room with the rounded wall lined with seats. Each seat had a little table edged with blue LEDs. Probably thirty students could sit, each with a clear view of the front of the room. At the front was a set of boards and a display podium, a pad already set up. Shiro pulled out his data drive and fiddled with the pad. In front of the podium was a concentric set of silver circles, at the widest half a meter and inlaid the floor. Keith gave the silver flooring a wide berth as he came into the room. 

“Take a seat, Keith. The class will begin in about fifteen minutes. I like to be early and set up.”

Keith slunk to a seat towards the back of the classroom. The more distance he had from Shiro and the other students the better. Sitting wasn’t comfortable with his tail tucked strangely against his leg. He was going to have a cramp from the unusual position. Keith distracted himself with the pad. The allowance of reading without hiding was exciting, something to take advantage of while offered and gave the excuse to keep his face down. 

Students began to trickle in, filling up the middle rows in pairs and small groups of friends. Most continued conversation with a few comments about the lecture topic and readings. Industrious students spoke to Shiro as they entered and took the front rows, showily organizing their stylus and pads on the desks. A few impatients tapped their polished black boots. One brunette spent several minutes with Shiro at the front of the classroom, balancing two pads as he asked question after question about the readings. 

“James, yes, that’s a good question, but class is starting,” Shiro drew back to the podium again and the brown haired boy scampered eagerly to a seat in the front row. 

“Picking up from last class, let’s focus on orbital physics and flight handling,” Shiro began. 

Keith turned away from Shiro and the lectern, chin in hand. Keith was very good at tuning out the chatter of owners who spoke over his head the same way they spoke over a table. Keith tried to keep his attention in the distant place he usually retreated to that made him unnoticeable. Except his ears kept pricking dangerously underneath the hat. The lecture was too interesting: a guide of how to travel the stars. Shiro’s voice was deep and smoothly paced as he led his students through derivative and flight path calculations. Keith caught himself leaning forward over his desk. He followed along on the desk pad, zooming in on the starcharts in the lecture slides. 

The stars Shiro hung with formulas and flight patterns entranced Keith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my tumblr is fichuntie](https://fichuntie.tumblr.com/)


	13. Pet Training and Education

After everything bizarre that had happened, Shiro felt good teaching a lecture. He liked talking to the students, their young faces lit with curiosity. Even James’ attempts to whack him in the face with a data pad -- the kid had brought two data pads! Because supposedly ‘a split screen module won’t let me explain as well’ as if a first year cadet had anything to explain -- had been more endearing than irritating. Shiro didn’t have to watch his words with these cadets the way he did with Keith. The familiar seats were filled and the lecture began.

His voice was strong and projected clearly across the classroom. At the back of the room, Keith seemed more like a delinquent cadet than an expensive pet. He looked like the other students, down to the lazy slouch over the desk. James, as usual, was leaning half over his desk with rapt attention. Shiro explained the elliptical flight path most shuttles would use, moving deftly through his slides. The tension of sneaking Keith into the Garrison slid away as Shiro was immersed in the explanations. Mid way through the course hour, Shiro shifted to questions.

“How would we calculate the math and momentum of our craft?”

Shiro scanned the rooms for an eager hand. James eagerly raised his hand and nearly felt the rest of the way out of his seat. James reliably read the material and liked to remind the other students of it. Still, James’ answers moved the lecture along and kept the other students engaged. A pair of students were hunched over their pad, clearly swiping through the reading, but Shiro didn’t have time to wait for them to find it.

“Yes, James.” Shiro did his best to keep resignation out of his voice.

“We’d use the orbit equation until r approached reentry distance.” James rang out.

“Very good!” Shiro praised. 

Shiro resumed his lecture. Questions kept the cadets engaged and directed Shiro’s attention to areas they struggled with. He shifted a diagram from his pad to the display to demonstrate the application of flight controls. The room automatically shifted the light display lower. The silver circles whirred quietly as the starscape expanded to the ceiling. The floor projection system took over and created a hologram that took up most of the room. Shiro caught the faint glow of Keith’s eyes, a yellow-glare that set him apart from the fully human students. Hopefully everyone’s attention was on the display at the front of the room.

“So based on the orbital physics, how would you react in flight to minimize fuel consumption?”

Shiro waited patiently as the students mulled the problem over. Students preferred practical applications when supplied, but struggled to apply the theory. The same pair who had rifled through their book pad now seemed to be typing a frantic search. Another group were whispering, passing formulas back and forth with gesture flicks. The frenetic study slowed to frustrated mumbles.

The moment drew on. Keith seemed to be looking around the classroom too, expecting one of the students to speak up. Shiro looked at James, a final hope, but he was angrily staring at his notes. Patience was helpful, but he didn’t want to embarrass or discourage the class by pressing too hard.

Keith slowly raised his hand.

“Keith.” Hesitance crept into Shiro’s voice.

“Couldn’t you coast into the planet’s gravity and then do an impulse boost at the last minute?” Keith’s asked.

“The last minute?”

“When the controls have the least resistance because the -” Keith cut off, frustrated. “You’d feel it in the forward speed.”

“When you’re in the gravitational well, yes, a pilot would feel the kinetic energy at the periapsis,” Shiro said. Keith didn’t have the terminology, but he’d described the solution as an action. Curious: a pet who sat in the footwell of a car had the instincts and motions for driving a flight craft. “The pilot would accelerate when at maximum speed to get the most benefit. Although in later models, the assisted correction would minimize the resistance in the controls. Good job, Keith.”

Shiro saw Keith’s bright smile at the praise. Most students scribbled the explanation away in their pads. A few looked hungrily at the controllers, probably already planning their next chance to try the maneuver in a simulation program. James’ anger seemed to have shifted from his notes to Keith. Shiro could only see the back of James’ slicked back hair as the boy, probably, glared back at the new academic competition. Shiro himself could feel his brows tightening with confusion, so he quickly turned towards the board to continue his lecture. Therapy pets were meant to be intelligent more than most pleasure pets; as Shiro had told Keith, therapy pets were taught to read and some other skills, but even pets of all creatures weren’t meant to be clever.

Keith’s instincts for flight were unbelievable in an uneducated human and impossible in an untrained pet. The thought lodged in his mind as he continued explaining how to land a shuttle on unexplored planets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my tumblr is fichuntie](https://fichuntie.tumblr.com/)


	14. Surrendered Animals and Past Owners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [my tumblr is fichuntie](https://fichuntie.tumblr.com/)

Keith had liked Shiro’s lesson. Keith liked the smell of excited students underneath the starch of their uniforms, the dusty frustration at the back of his throat when confused, the mechanical sound of the floor tossing up star-scapes. His ears perked forward at the confident explanations Shiro gave. He’d had to push the beret back down to hide them. He enjoyed sitting in the dark room and tracking Shiro’s movements around the holoprojection, the blue glow reflecting on the gold cords pinned at his shoulder. Keith liked being able to imagine flying.

Shiro’s metallic fingers deftly gathered papers into his briefcase. Keith hovered behind Shiro as students filed past into the hallway.

“You followed the lecture really well,” Shiro said. “Let’s go to my office in case anyone actually bothers with my office hours.”

“Office hours?” Keith tilted his head. Asking questions seemed in character for a student so probably allowed. Besides, Shiro seemed eager to explain things, even to a pet who should silently obey.

“Hours where students can come to my office and ask questions. Since most of my kids are flight track, they only really bother around finals,” Shiro led them through the hallways. Students shifted aside for instructors and Keith could easily fit in the wake Shiro made. “I can’t blame them. Their time is better spent in the flight sims at this point in their training.”

Keith followed beside Shiro, caught up in the excitement of this new place.

Except, up ahead, turning into the hallway. He had the same authoritative stride as Shiro, the same officer’s uniforms. But Keith knew him, familiar. The broad shoulders. The damaged eye. The pace of steps. The large hands.

Iverson.

The fur on Keith’s back lifted. Cold flashed over his whole body. He dropped his gaze to the floor, adjusting the beret nervously. His ears. He can’t have the hat falling off. He can’t be seen. All he saw was the man’s boots as they approach. The shoes are at a bright military polish. Keith remembered what the leather tasted like, waxy. The black leather spit slick and shiny. He can’t let Iverson see him.

Shiro’s gait was confident with a slight pause. Shiro must have saluted; the man is an officer here with gray uniform and authority. Keith fell behind Shiro, kept his gaze down. Keith made himself small, hid behind Shiro’s broad back. Iverson could reach out and grab him, just feet away. His shiny boots don’t even pause to acknowledge Shiro’s salute. Iverson expected respect here too.

They passed the man. Keith looked over his shoulder at the retreating back.

Keith tugged on Shiro’s jacket.

“Shiro,” Keith hissed. He could feel his own tail fur puffing up as it brushed on his leg.

“We’re almost at my office,” Shiro said, smiling.

The excitement curdled in Keith’s stomach as Shiro led him through more unfamiliar hallways. Finally, Shiro opened another door. The office was a smaller room, packed with a desk and bookshelves. Posters pinned to the walls displayed flight paths and course schedules. Keith recognized Shiro’s tidy style, but felt trapped when Shiro closed the door behind them.

“Why was that man here?” Keith asked. His eyes kept flitting to the door, but he couldn’t help it.

“Which man?” Shiro settled at his desk, already unpacking his briefcase.

“Iverson,” Keith said, “The one we passed in the hallway. In gray like you.”

“How do you know his name?” Shiro asked, confused.

“He knew my owner. He’s not a good person, Shiro,” Keith said. “He shouldn’t be here. Not around kits.” Keith remembered that Pidge studied here and he’d seen younger students in the hallways. Keith remembered the bushy scratch of Iverson’s beard on his skin, raking the fur on his stomach the wrong way. Shiro frowned at him, confused.

“Kits?”

“Young ones.” This was stupid to say to Shiro. Shiro was a human, an owner. Shiro probably knew the officer and didn’t care.

“Keith, you’re not making sense. I don’t know how you knew Iverson’s name, but he’s a teacher here. He has been for years.”

“My owner would have Iverson over at his parties. My owner thought it was funny, letting Iverson order pets to do things the pet would fail at. And then they’d punish them,” Keith waved his hand jerkily. “Iverson liked younger pets. He shouldn’t be in charge of kits here.”

“You’re saying that the commander who I’ve worked with for years, who teaches students with me, a decorated officer, that he’s some kind of criminal?” Shiro bit the words out flatly. Keith knew a pet’s word doesn’t mean anything.

Sweat trickled down Keith’s spine.

“I didn’t even know Galra were allowed to read. I don’t know if he’s a criminal. Maybe he was allowed to do that to m-- kits. You told me I had rights and you’d help me learn them. I know Iverson can recognize me. He could get us both in trouble. If he didn’t beat me himself here, he’d turn me over to animal control,” Keith managed, voice husky.

Shiro’s gray eyes were wide. His prosthetic whirred loudly as he clenched a hand around his briefcase. The leather creased under his grip.

“Iverson taught me as a cadet. He wouldn’t--”

“Shiro, shut up and trust me,” Keith hissed.


	15. 6 Signs You Should Re-Home Your Pet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [my tumblr is fichuntie](https://fichuntie.tumblr.com/)

After his outburst, Keith was silent. He hunched over the far end of the desk and peered out the office’s small window.

He didn’t know how he would explain Keith in his office if a student came by. He didn’t think he could rally his attention to answering cadet’s questions when he had so many of his own. Tension gathered in Shiro’s shoulders, but he kept his back straight. The room felt stifling with Keith’s warnings. The hour passed in tense silence with no students visiting. Keith wilted with each hour; the confidence of the young man who answered a complex flight question faded before Shiro. With a final glance at the clock, Shiro packed up his belongings.

“Let’s go home,” Shiro said.

Shiro led them through the campus. Keith kept up with his brisk pace, seeming eager to return home. But Shiro couldn’t glance back to catch Keith’s expression. Shiro kept his greetings to officers to a short nod, and his mind was already galaxies ahead. Shiro keyed their exit permission from campus at the Garrison’s main doors. The campus was far more worried with unauthorized personnel sneaking in than authorized leaving. They cut across the walkways that crossed the campus as they headed back to the garage. At his car, some of the tension abated. They’d made it through the day without Keith discovered. Once they were home, they could deal with the rest.

Shiro opened the car door for Keith. Keith tossed the beret off in the transport car. The black hat bounced off the dashboard and fell to the floor. Shiro reached down for it and set it in his lap.

“I’ll put set the windows to privacy tint so you don’t have to wear this,” Shiro said. It was the least he could do for Keith after a brush with his frightening past. The black fabric was still warm from Keith’s head. Purple hairs stood out against the fabric. The ride out was easier as they weren’t stopped by security leaving. Keith’s hunched shoulders smoothed out as they drove through the red desert. The suburban sprawl overtook the open sand. Shiro pushed the beret into his briefcase as the car parked back at his home.

Shiro led them back up the steps to his apartment. Shiro stopped at the front closet, shrugging off his Garrison jacket and tucking his briefcase away. He shoved his hand into his bag for the tablet to plug into the synch station. Keith stalked to the bedroom. Shiro felt the brush of the bow of his curved shoulders as he passed and then heard the slam of the bedroom door. Then a high-pitched whine which cut off abruptly. Shiro forgot about the missing tablet, too drained to worry. Shiro collapsed at the kitchen table.

How was Keith this intelligent? Keith might be unusual for a pet, but who break the law to design a pet this intelligent and then keep it uneducated and unprotected? What was he supposed to do with a pet who claimed Commander Iverson was some kind of abuser?

Shiro’s shoulders hunched. Iverson had been a mentor to him years ago. He’d written a glowing recommendation for Shiro into the flight program before his health had ruined his piloting prospects. The older man had sat with Shiro in his large office plotting a course to a teaching position at the Garrison. Still, Shiro knew that an abuser could hide their cruelty. Shiro had never been as vulnerable as Keith had been – still was. Shiro had caught a flinty glint in Iverson’s narrow eyes when looking over the incoming class of cadets but never thought too much about it. Nor of the fearful gossip some fresh cadets shared about the man. He knew the man had a penchant for authority and a heavy hand with the younger students. Shiro closed his eyes.

Keith deserved his belief. Shiro was responsible for him, as he should have listened to the concerns of the younger students. If Keith was right, Iverson had been traveling in circles that enabled and encouraged him. Iverson he would deteriorate from pet kits to human kids. Somehow, Shiro needed to initiate a Garrison investigation into Commander Iverson. The testimony of a pet wouldn’t be enough, especially one abandoned for poor behavior. Pets were dismissed systemically. Worse, Shiro couldn’t even know if the abuse would be illegal since Iverson targeted a pet with the permission of its owner. He’d picked Keith out of the trash thinking his kindness would be enough. They were facing something

He shifted his weight between his arms, leaning heavily on his prosthetic as tension bracketed through his left shoulder. This was too much for a half-broken man to take on alone. After his attempts to keep piloting with the backing of the Holts, Shiro had learned how powerful the bureaucracy of the Garrison could be. Keith deserved to have his accusation carefully investigated, not buried due to his Galra status. Shiro needed a qualified team to help. Pidge would know what to do; her rebellious nature put her in contact with Galra activists on the darker corners of the net.

A Garrison officer should face the terrifying void headfirst. Shiro lifted himself from the table and turned to face his bedroom. Shiro knocked on the door. His prosthetic wobbled and knocked louder than he intended.

“Yes, sir,” came the crackling voice.

Shiro opened the door slowly. Keith was curled up in a ball, tail tucked under his chin on the bed. Shiro fell back into Garrison posture with his hands clasped behind his back. At least Keith wouldn’t see the fine tremors rippling his arms behind his back as his control of the prosthetic frayed.

“Keith, you deserve a second chance. And I hope you can give me one. I’ve known Iverson for a long time, but I’m realizing how little I know about how people treat Galra. If you say he mistreated you before, I believe you. He has a lot of power as a commander at the Garrison, not just over… kits or cadets, but over me too. I had a bad first reaction. Can you trust me still?”

“I trust you, Shiro,” Keith uncurled. He met Shiro’s eyes again.

Shiro let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you. But we can’t go forward blindly. Hopefully, Pidge has more information for us by now.”

Shiro pulled up his data pad to send Pidge a call request. Her familiar avatar popped up over the screen.

“Shiro! Hey! I haven’t run the full genetic diagnostic. This pet has way more information encoded than usual! Also, shouldn’t you still be at the garrison? You’re IP’s pinging you’re at home.”

“Yes, I’m at home. Keith and I just came back from campus,” Shiro kneaded his shoulder.

The avatar flicked away to reveal Pidge’s worried face on-screen. She looked frazzled, like Shiro, but that was more typical of the young hacker. Rover’s snout poked from the corner of the frame, never far from his owner. Cluttered electronics filled the display behind her.

“What happened?” she asked, eyes bright with curiosity and worry.

“I couldn’t leave Keith here alone. I took him with me to classes. Keith says he knows Iverson from his past owner. I want to help Keith, but I’m in way over my head.”

“I never trusted Iverson. You know, he tried to get me kicked out for being on the roofs? I mean, sure, they were locked, but if cadets weren’t supposed to be up there they would’ve have more securely encrypted the lock.”

“Pidge!” Shiro said. “I don’t want to hear about your disciplinary infractions. DId you find out anything about Keith? How could he even know Iverson?”

“We already knew Keith wasn’t a typical pet or breed, so he’s not from a breeding center. I’m still unraveling the DNA coding, but he’s way beyond anything that should be possible for years. He’s got more terabytes of mods than any other experimental hybrid. And his telomeres have a druidic length! Just his existence is breaking the law. Shiro, he has naturalized genetic recombinations between human and Galra. The only way that’s possible is if there were heterozygous embryonic development.”

“Embryos? Naturalized? But pets aren’t produced that way.” Shiro was vague on the details, but algorithmic programming and cryopods seemed like familiar terms. He’d never heard of a pregnant pet. The thought made him feel nauseous where Pidge seemed awe struck.

“Exactly. Keith was probably born and probably has a human parent.” Pidge wrinkled her nose. “Whoever commissioned him was breaking all sorts of laws. If he has a human parent and was used to encode terabytes of information, he’s walking evidence of a crime.”

“But I found him in the trash! Who’d throw away a pet that illegal and expensive?” Shiro countered. “And that doesn’t answer where he’s from!”

“Honestly, this type of engineering is above my rank too. I can forward you along to a group who might know more. They call themselves Altean. But, Shiro, these guys are freedom fighter types.”

Shiro looked at Keith’s room. No, his room. Shiro dug his thumb into his collar bone, trying to press the tension away. He remembered Keith’s frantic eyes, bright with fear after seeing Iverson. Then, Keith’s gilded eyes as he considered flying across space. Shiro pushed his shoulders back, dropping his hands to his lap. Part of being a commander was making hard choices.

“Keith can’t stay here. It’s not safe for either of us. Send me the information.”


	16. New Home Benefits: Pet Predictive Modeling

Galra hearing was better than human. He’d been too exhausted before to eavesdrop on Shiro’s conversations with Pidge, but now he was thrumming with nervous energy. His ears twitched erratically. His fingertips tore into the blanket with clawed points. Pressed against the corner, Keith considered his options.

From the moment he’d mentioned Iverson, Keith knew he’d made a mistake. Shiro had been too kind, too easy, too generous. Keith had forgotten, sitting like a human in a class, who he really was. A certain kind of owner wanted to pretend a pet was more, enjoy the obedience given so seamlessly they could forget they were holding a leash. Maybe Shiro was like that. He hadn’t even collared Keith. Keith could remember how to obey. Keith could remind Shiro how well he could submit.

Keith had a few days before Shiro could pass him off to the Alteans. Keith’s tail curled up at the thought. He had to do something, either leave on his own terms or convince Shiro he was worth keeping.


	17. How to keep pets off furniture

Shiro didn’t dream often anymore. At first he’d had medications for the pain with side effects that kept him so far down he couldn’t dream. Then he’d had nightmares: horrible flashes of rending that woke him soaked in sweat and phantom pain. They’d been fading with time, but Shiro didn’t have the deep cycles of sleep necessary for dreams yet. Recently with Keith around, sleep had been easier. Pleasure like this had to be a dream. Hazy and impossible, Shiro relaxed into it, his muscles sleep warm and loose.

He’d tried not to look at Keith’s mouth: lips and tongue, pink and soft. But Shiro’s dreams had no reservations as he felt Keith lick the head of his cock. Pets were pretty, but Keith’s mouth was expressive too. Slowly, he curled his tongue against the underside, the length of it for kittenish kisses. Shiro groaned. The tongue pressed flat as he opened his mouth further. Open mouthed wetness enveloped Shiro’s cock, slow and steady with each inch. Shiro was careful to let Keith go at his own pace. Keith sank down slowly then withdrew with licks each time he drew back. Each time he swallowed more of Shiro’s cock. The pet must be swallowing his precome, holding each jerk of his cock as sensation raced down Shiro’s spine. Shiro grabbed at the bed with fingers losing their sleep looseness. He felt Keith’s lips pull into an accomplished smile. He remembered Keith’s full lips when he’d smiled around dinner and the bob of his throat as he swallowed. The steady method paid off as Keith took his whole length in.

Shiro pushed into the wet heat. At his base, he could feel Keith’s hands, warm and tight. Shiro slowly thrust again. Keith yielded and Shiro felt how deeply he could fuck forward. With each push into Keith, Shiro gasped overwhelmed. Keith’s hand tightened at the base when his cock twitched in pleasure. This was too easy, dreamlike and lazy, and Shiro felt so good.

“Baby,” Shiro moaned.

Shiro opened his eyes drowsily, wanting to see those forbidden lips stretched around him. Keith’s fierce eyes glinted yellow for a moment under his lashes, and he swallowed again. Shiro’s eyes closed again, overwhelmed. Tight pleasure all down his length, from Keith’s pink mouth and strong grip, made Shiro thrust at a quicker pace. It felt heavy and languid. Shiro groaned. He hadn’t done this in months. Keith felt so good, taking him deeply. 

“You feel so good, baby,” Shiro panted. Keith’s other hand scratched down his stomach, fingertips sharp in the hair until he drifted along the inside of Shiro’s thigh. “So good.”

Shiro’s eyelids fluttered. He could see Keith’s hands, one set of long pale fingers in the still-dark curls that shadowed his stomach and the other a firm grip at the base of his cock. The pet’s thumb brushed along a vein which made Shiro thrust hard. He’d tried not to think of the pet like this, between his knees and serving him. His hands clutched at Keith’s head and shoulders. Inky locks felt silky in his flesh hand while the other could only convey the solid heft of Keith’s shoulder. The gentle press of Shiro’s fingers contrasted to the strength of his thrusts into the pliant mouth. An exquisite fantasy of a tight throat was making Shiro almost white out in pleasure. He brushed through the hair, careful not to pull. He wanted to give back the pleasure he was granted. His fingers brushed soft fur.

Fur. It’d been a while since he’d convinced someone to bed, but fur wasn’t something he dreamed up usually.

Shiro opened his eyes against the lazy pleasure. His hands twisted in Keith’s hair, one pressed at the base of his cat-like ear. Keith’s lashes brushed his cheek, half closed. His tongue dragged, rougher than a human’s, slowly along the underside of Shiro’s cock. When Shiro’s cock twitched, Keith swallowed with a hum. This wasn’t a wet dream.

Shiro thrashed.

“What are you doing?” Shiro yelped.

Keith licked his lips. They were bruised, fuller than usual from his efforts. Shiro’s cock twitched traitorously at the sight. Keith knocked the back of his hand against his mouth, nonchalant. His lips shimmered, pink from their task. 

“I’m being a good pet,” Keith said, voice deeper than usual. Spit made his lips glossy in the darkness. Shiro dropped his eyes away from the flushed face of the pet.

Shiro scrambled to find the blanket. How had Keith gotten not only the blanket but his pants off? He grabbed the blanket from the floor and bunched it over his crotch. His wide legs were barely hidden by the fabric. 

“Keith, you can’t just do that,” Shiro croaked. “Is this like the clothes thing?”

Keith’s eyes seemed to catch the light of the room, unblinking.

“I don’t know what your old owner expected, but I don’t want you to --” Shiro rallied, “to touch me like that.”

The embarrassment killed his arousal at least. Shiro sat up, drawing important inches away from Keith.

“You really don’t want me,” Keith whispered.

“I want what’s best for you, Keith.”

Keith’s eyes flashed strangely and then he collapsed on himself. Keith’s shoulders shook, tremulous, and his hands clutched at his face. Loudly, he sobbed. His tail’s fur stood on end as it pressed against his back.

“Hey, hey,” Shiro’s hands hovered over Keith, scared to touch him. It would be wrong to touch him after --

Keith leaned against Shiro, nuzzling against his shoulder. Tear stained, the boy’s face turned up at him. Shiro watched as the tears tapered off and felt the wetness soak through his shirt. Keith huffed a last open mouthed sob; Shiro worried he could feel the drag of sharp teeth against his chest but he drew back before Shiro could be sure.

“I’m sorry,” Keith said.

With a clattering of claws on wood floor, Keith was running through the apartment door. Just as suddenly as he’d fallen into Shiro’s arms, Keith was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my tumblr is fichuntie](https://fichuntie.tumblr.com/)


	18. Pets and Cars

Keith scrambled down the stairs. He sprinted to the transport car. Frantically, he shook the handle. Locked. Even in a quiet suburb, Shiro was a man with militant order. Keith took a deep breath and refocused. He crouched down and looked at the keypad. With careful concentration, he peeled back the plastic coating with his Galra sharp nails to reveal the circuits underneath. Keith considered it critically. It wasn’t the same model as his past owner, but the same type. More so, Shiro hadn’t expected Keith to run like his owner had learned he would. There was no special protection against tampering added to the sleek lines of the black vehicle.

He tore a piece of the uniform’s golden accents off. He licked the surface of the metal and, with the hem of the shirt, pressed it to the keypads. The car made a hissing protest as the circuits overheated but Keith kept the metal pressed to the pad. The door slid open. Keith jumped inside, manually shutting the door before the hydro could kick in. Each passing moment was one for Shiro to regroup and catch him.

He stared at the dash of the car. Warning alerts about the door flashed. The list of previous locations scrolled down the display. Keith’s fingers tore into his pants as he sat with a tightly held body. 

Where could he go? Where could a rejected runaway pet go?

Tears threatened to begin again. Keith didn’t care where as long as he was free speeding towards a new somewhere. His best chance to run had to be used.

He ducked headfirst down into the footwell. His eyes adjusted to the shadow as he looked for the hidden screws. Keith shoved a nail into them, using the tip to untwist them. At least being pushed down at an owner’s feet for so long had been helpful. Keith stripped a few wires using his nails. He twisted two exposed wires around the golden metal piece. Carefully he traced another wire from the dash towards the GPS: he cut it. Hopefully that would prevent transmission once Shiro realized Keith was using his car.

Keith drew back up into the seat. His claws dug into the leather of the controls. His ears flicked incessantly as if he could hear Shiro’s footsteps through the glass. Adrenaline burned away the coil of rejection. Keith keyed the start up for the transport car. With a rev of the engine, he was out.

Keith drove quickly, but he was careful to follow the flow of cars. He couldn’t afford to be stopped as a pet driving unaccompanied. With each mile, ambition grew. His fingers loosened on the controls, claws retracting. As houses thinned out, Keith felt the flush of success. He pelted the thrusters forward. In the open road he could use his skill to rush towards his freedom. His tail swished as he turned towards the quiet highway and the expanse of desert. Through the windshield, he could see the golden desert spilling out in front of him. He pushed the hoover faster, twisting around curves with reckless happiness.

The desert had been beautiful on the way to the Garrison with Shiro, but the open blue sky and umber soil were even more wonderful on the way to his freedom. Keith maneuvered the car past each hover transport, racing further away to the open road. With each breath, Keith could feel the static dryness of the air as if sand had managed to sneak past the transport’s top of the line filters. Miles out, his stolen transport was the only in sight. Keith’s eyes dilated in excitement as he looked forward at the desert road even though the bright sun hurt. 

Keith looked behind. Billowing clouds of brown dust came from another transport behind him. The transport was gaining speed and catching up despite Keith’s reckless speeding. The straight open road offered no escape. Keith bristled. He was so close. Close first to a kind owner and then close to freedom. Keith growled low in his throat. He wasn’t going down easily. He turned off the road and onto the open sand. A warning alert flashed on the dash which Keith swiped away, claws close to scraping the display. The vehicle followed.

Off road, the terrain was irregular. At first the hover kept him stabilized. As the rugged terrain increased, Keith could feel his car tilt irregularly. Behind him, the other vehicle was gaining speed. A gust of wind let him see the details of the green vehicle. The green transport was smaller, built for speed. Through the dust trail, Keith could make out that the other driver was managing the terrain better. The vehicle following in his wake benefited from the wake of Keith’s hover car flattening the ground, but the humans pursuing him couldn’t benefit from the heightened reactions of a Galra. Keith pressed the thruster the last inch forward.  
Keith raced towards the horizon. As they ate miles, Keith’s confidence grew.

He grit his teeth and swerved away from the cliffside to go down the descent. No human could have made the sudden turn. He cast a glance behind.

The vehicle hadn’t made the turn off to the pass down the cliffside. The driver had at full speed careened over the cliffside. The hover shorted out without ground below the vehicle; the compact transport fell with the full force of gravity. Keith almost lost control over his own vehicle as he watched the green vehicle arc through the open air. Hissing, Keith downshifted his car to regain control. He handled the curving descent with an eye for the falling vehicle. With the airborne path, the vehicle would crash in front of him. Keith’s fur rose as he prepared to swerve around the nosedive’s impact.

At the last minute, the green vehicle was lit by the light of the hover manually re-activating. Clouds of sand billowed out from the hover. Keith came off the descent towards the open area with a path around the dust. The other driver sped out and cut in front of Keith. Keith braked and the sudden deceleration pressed him into the seat. The other hover came to a burnout stop ahead. The door pushed open. Shiro stepped out. Keith hissed and banged his fist on the dashboard. 

Shiro walked over to his car. He knocked on the window: two raps with his knuckles. Keith looked at him through the window. Shiro’s face was calm. Diving over a cliff hadn’t affected the cool gray eyes. Resigned, Keith unlocked the door. Steel eyes swept over the altered dashboard then fell to Keith who avoided Shiro’s piercing gaze. 

“You said you trusted me, but you had a backup plan, huh?” Shiro leaned against the door and tapped a metal finger against the ruined keypad. His wide shoulders blocked the sky out. “Pretty good plan too. Get a car, disable the theft GPS, make a run away from humans who would report you. I can’t track your implant chip. As an officer, I have to respect the strategy. Except for a small snag: I dropped my data pad in the car so there was a second working GPS.”

Shiro’s hand darted forward suddenly. He grabbed Keith by the nape of his neck. Like a kit, Keith relaxed even as the prosthetic fingers dug into his skin. Shiro bodily lifted Keith out of the car, unphased by the dead weight. Keith’s feet dragged through the sand as Shiro carried him to the green car. Shiro went to the back of the car. He keyed open a code and the trunk popped open. He cast a glance behind. Despite his fear at being trapped in the tiny dark space of the trunk, Keith couldn’t struggle against the hold on his nape. Shiro’s flesh hand drew a leash set out of the trunk. Unhurried, he shook the coil of green fabric loose. Shiro pressed Keith against the car and began to tie his arms behind his back. Shiro gave the knot a tug and then shook Keith by his neck.

“Stay here.” Shiro said and shoved him into the card with a hard push. Keith landed across the car seats on his belly.

Keith didn’t have a choice. The only place he could go was wriggling to the floor. His tail lashed with fur on end. Keith could barely see Shiro walk back to his car. He was probably coding it to return to his apartment. The rev of the hover confirmed Keith’s guess. A minute later, Shiro’s warm hand returned to Keith’s neck. He was lifted again and placed upright in the seat. Shiro slid in next to him, leaving his arm draped over Keith’s shoulders. Keith kept his eyes focused on a middle distance and his face down.

“What a morning,” Shiro said as he keyed the green vehicle into action. The hover initiated and the vehicle set off at a fast speed.

Keith steeled himself for punishment. Probably the pain would start in the car since Shiro had declined to put him in the trunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my tumblr is fichuntie](https://fichuntie.tumblr.com/)  
>  final chapter will probably on friday.  
> i think i'll do a second fic continuing in the same verse.   
> i can't believe voltron ends in december.


	19. Homed

Shiro settled into transport next to Keith. He was lucky that Pidge had been willing to lend her compact transport to him, but the smaller vehicle left Keith with nowhere to cower to. He was left where he’d been dropped, his arms bound behind him. Shiro quickly keyed in a few extra security measures as they set off. He’d already set his own vehicle to return for repairs. Garrison instructor salaries weren’t meant for these kinds of expenses. With a sigh, Shiro faced the source of trouble.

“We have to talk about this,” Shiro said harshly. 

Keith’s sullen appearance couldn’t hide the flash of fear when Shiro turned to him. The purple tail flared even fluffier even as the rest of Keith hunched smaller. Belly down and thrown across the seat, the sprawl of Keith’s legs contrasted with his tightly bound arms. Keith tried to pull against the bindings, but the green fabric dug into his arms and wrinkled the long uniform sleeves. His face pressed against the seat. Shiro could only see half his pet’s face, the line of his brow pulled down with fear and his neck with tense cords. 

“Why did you do that?” Shiro asked. “Run or any of it?”

Keith’s mouth fell open, but he didn’t answer.

“Keith.”

Keith’s breaths came rapidly in open mouthed pants. Shiro thought of an overheated animal and then his own anxiety attacks. Keith was dirty with sand, tears, and a scent of fear that reached even a human nose. Shiro leaned over him, slow and telegraphing the movement. He brushed his hand through Keith’s hair, first the bangs, then the long hair at the nape of his neck. He scratched behind the purple ears, pressing at the base of them. Keith managed a deeper ragged breath, breaking the spiral.

“I don’t want to go back to the re-home or to some stranger. I thought if I showed what a good pet I could be then, you might…”

Shiro placed a hand over Keith’s trembling one.

“I don’t know much about Galra pets. Is that - on the couch- what you think a good pet is?” Shiro asked. He couldn’t bring himself to say what Keith had done. Shiro wasn’t that type of person especially after Kerberos and Adam. 

“Yes, sir. I want to be good for you, more than I’ve ever wanted. I want to stay with you, sir, and, if I can, fly with you.” Keith’s eyes were sun-bright and pleading. Shiro felt pierced by that fierce gaze. 

More so, Keith’s lack of thought to consent worried Shiro. Pets were meant to be open to advances, eager to please on an order, but who had trained Keith to think that humans were the same? Always happy to take from him? As the car moved closer to the city, more and more humans showed up on the sidewalks and plazas. Shiro viewed the winding pedestrians out in the towns. Scattered amongst them were pets too. Some pets sat tethered outside shops in the Arizona heat while other purple furred companions trailed behind their owners on decorated leashes. With more exposure to Keith, Shiro saw the danger of the system and his own ignorance.

“Please, don’t call me sir. Whatever you past owner expected, I don’t. I’ll admit I thought at first that maybe I could use you as a therapy pet. But I’m seeing how wrong that kind of thinking is. Using you for my own gain. Or throwing you away when you become too difficult.”

Shiro tilted Keith’s gaze up to his face with a prosthetic finger on his chin. His prosthetic whirred, mechanisms barely controlled from the stress and tension Shiro held in his body. The soft flesh of the pet’s face barely registered to the machine. As fierce as Keith was bolting for freedom, he was vulnerable too. 

“Do you think we could work together? Keith and Shiro? Pilot and first officer?”

Keith’s purple eyes searched his face. Shiro looked at him: the way his lean shoulders were pulled taunt with his arms laced behind his back. Keith bit his lip, a red indent. Shiro remembered the downy feel of Keith’s ears as they perked forward. Keith already looked different than the scruffy and bruised pet he’d found in the trash. 

“Yes, Shiro.” Keith’s voice had a rumbling purr on Shiro’s name that seemed to roll through Shiro’s body. Shiro brushed a hand down his arms, lifting Keith to settle against his shoulder.  
“Then let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my tumblr is fichuntie](https://fichuntie.tumblr.com/)
> 
> alright it's done! open ended hea. shiro and keith are together and things are looking up. ฅ/ᐠ｡ᆽ｡ᐟ \   
> i honestly can't believe i wrote all this. this is the longest fic i've written and has more plot than i knew how to handle, clearly. i've appreciated everyone's comments and interest in the story. thank you. (Ф ﻌ Ф)


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